The Hero

and, the curate, who said that a public ceremony would be undoubtedly a stimulus to the moral welfare of Little Primpton. No man could escape fro

n of his own, while it would awaken James, a young man and possibly thoughtless, to a proper sense of his responsibilitie

libborn? The school childr

he drove towards Primpton House from the stat

nto Tunbridge Wells and drive in at two

and I think he'd only laugh if I asked him. He seemed

race to Little Primpton if we did not welcome our hero, especially now that everything is prepared.

d receive it from the triumphal arch at the gate.... When the servant announced that the function was ready to begin, an announcement emphasis

was pleasantly rural, old-fashioned and very English; and to complete it, the sun shone down comfortably like a good-natured, mild old gentleman. The curate, with a fine sense of order, had arranged on the right the school-boys, nicely scrubbed and redolent of pomatum; and on the left the girls, supported by their teachers. In the middl

ficantly. He raised above his head his large, white clerical hand, stretching out the index-finger, and began to beat time.

conquering

umpets; beat

at, the curate raised the other hand which held his so

ugh afraid of being left behind, and then galloped on, a little le

startled air, Mr. Dryland made a sign to the head boy of th

for Capting

is heated brow, turned ro

the Empire. You have brought honour to yourself, but you have brought honour to us also. You have shown that Englishmen know how to die; you have shown the rival nations of the Continent that the purity and the godliness of Old England still bear fruit. But I will say no more; I wished only to utter a few words to welcome you on behalf of those who cannot, perhaps, express themselves so well as I can. I will say no more. Captain Parsons, we hope that you will live long to enjoy your honour and glory, side by side with her who is to shortly become your wife. I would only assure you that your exampl

principles enough to build a church with; nor was an acquaintance with literature wanting. They all read the daily papers, and Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, in addition, read the Church Times. Mary even knew by heart whole chunks of Sir Lewis Morris, and Mr. Dryland recited Tennyson at penny readings. But when inspiration is wanting, a rhyming dictionary, for which th

trained by Mr. Dryland-and with appropriate gestu

ood on the

l but 'e

at lit the b

d 'im o'er

pplause of the little party beneath t

School, will now present Miss Clibborn w

urate, and he watched with pleasure M

peech in the ingenuous words which Mr. Dryland

esent you with this bouquet as a slight token of our esteem. We wish

flowers, surrounded with frilled pap

ber one hundred and thirty

beautiful to see such a nice spirit among the lower classes. The strains of the brass band died away on the summe

arishioners of Little Primpton, I wish to

n ring which distinguishes the true orator. Mr. Jackson was recognised everywhere to be a fine platform speaker, but his varied excellence could not b

pay attention to the ceremony, and his eyes travelled every now and again to James, with that startled, unhappy expression which was horribly painful to see. But his age and weakness prevented him from feeling

, it occurred to him that he had an opportunity of salving the bitter wound he had caused. The very hatred he felt at making open allusion t

for the welcome you hav

frightful humiliation to have to say the things he had in mind, it made them all ugly and vulgar; he was troubled

fine example, and to his teaching, and to his constant, loving care, that I was able to do the little I did. And I should like to say that it is to him and to my mother that I owe everything. It is the thought of his unblemished and exquisite career, of the beautiful spirit which br

ness and gratitude. All recollection of the affront quickly vanished, and he felt an ecstatic joy such as he had never known before. The idea came to him i

ion, as Mr. Dryland had arranged, they all marched off. The group under the triump

. She took Jamie's hands

harming of you to speak as you did of your fat

id gravely, and bending forward, put h

was a thing soon vanquished. She wished, above all things, to be manly, as

or mamma will be angry with

rning paper. Mrs. Parsons sat on her usual chair, knitting, and she greeted him with a loving smile. James saw that they were both pleased with his few a

ne?" asked M

mother would be a

ause someone besides herself attracted attention. I

es!" expostulat

oughly bad woman. The way she t

!" said th

t. Sometimes the poor thing used to come here quite

Clibborn do?" aske

s. Clibborn is simply horrible. She abuses her; she tells her she's ugly, and that she dresses badly. How can she dress any better when Mrs. Clibborn spends all the money on herself? I've heard her myself say to Mary: 'How stupid and clumsy you are! I'm ashame

arsons. "She preferred to bear anything rather than

imply a martyr, and all the time she's as kind and affectionate to her mother as if

"she used to say that her only happin

nd then hesitatingly: "Do you thin

e worships the very ground you tread on

y vain," said Colon

r was by saying that you would come bac

soon, I suppose?" said Colonel Parsons,

t's rather early to th

June," said

must

Colonel Parsons; "I'm sure you

ky to have found such a dear, sweet girl. It's a b

ou must begin thinking of your trousseau, my dear,' I said, 'If I know anything of J

rsons

thought you knew; but when we heard you were coming home, she started to

horribly cruel in their loving-kindness, in